


Do Your Ears Hang Low?

by blakefancier



Category: Blake's 7
Genre: Crack, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-04-25
Updated: 2011-04-25
Packaged: 2017-10-18 16:26:06
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 783
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/190868
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/blakefancier/pseuds/blakefancier
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Avon in a bunny suit story.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Do Your Ears Hang Low?

Blake checked his watch for the sixth time in five minutes and sighed. "Avon, are you done?"

From behind the partition, Blake heard a muffled response. "No."

"It didn't look that difficult to put on."

"Then *you* wear it." Avon stepped into view and Blake nearly had to bite his tongue in half to keep from laughing. The look Avon gave him would have been murderous, if it weren't for the pink ear that flopped over one eye.

Blake swallowed and took a deep breath. "We need those supplies and the Corths need someone to play their fertility god. Besides, you lost the draw, Avon. It doesn't look so bad."

Blake didn't add that the whiskers painted on his cheeks were a nice touch. Avon did make an adorable pink bunny.

He walked over to Avon and touched the faux fur; it was silky and warm. For a moment Blake wondered if the inside of the suit felt the same. He looked up, into Avon's furious gaze, and fondled the droopy, pink ear. "It's soft."

"I'm glad you're enjoying yourself." Avon shifted and grimaced. "It's hot and uncomfortable inside of this damn thing."

Blake nodded and felt the inside of the ear: it was made of a satin material that glided easily, gloriously, over the fingertips. Suddenly, Avon wasn't the only one hot and uncomfortable. He brushed a thumb over Avon's bottom lip and watched his eyes go wide with astonishment. Then Blake stepped back and began to unbutton his trousers.

"Get on your knees."

Avon sneered and dropped to the ground. "You're disgusting."

Blake freed his cock from his trousers; he was half-hard. Avon moaned and wrapped his hands, paws, around Blake's thighs. Before Blake could comment on Avon's own enthusiasm for disgusting acts, Avon very effectively silenced him (unless one counted an undignified squeak) by swallowing his cock whole.

Avon's mouth was very, very wet, and warm and perfect. At first he was content just to watch Avon's mouth slide over his cock in nice long strokes. But soon he was running his hands over the fur again, letting it tickle his palms, and tugging on the ears, wrapping them tightly around his hands before letting them loosen and slip away.

They were beautiful and Blake couldn't get enough of them, the long, pink, soft and satin ears. He grabbed them at the base and pulled them, stroked them like two very long cocks. Each stroke coincided with a long, luxurious suck from Avon's mouth.

He began to moan, thrusting hard into Avon's mouth, pulling on the ears, from base to tip. He imagined wrapping them around his cock, stroking himself until they were wet, the fur a rough mess. Then he imagined Avon fucking him while a pink paw wrapped around his cock, and he came.

Blake stepped back, a bit unsteadily, and looked down at Avon. He was flushed and red, his little bunny whiskers smeared. And, once again, an ear dangled over his face.

Blake pulled the hood from Avon's head and ran his fingers through Avon's wet hair until it spiked. Then he grabbed Avon by the front of his bunny suit and pulled him up onto his feet. When Avon had steadied, Blake kissed him, licking his lips and brushing their tongues together. He could taste himself in Avon's mouth, a salty slickness that didn't quite taste right. Avon tasted better.

Everything about Avon was better.

Blake unzipped the front of the suit, all the way to Avon's waist. It didn't surprise him to find that Avon was naked underneath; it made things easier. It made curling his fingers around Avon's cock easier.

Avon responded wonderfully by gasping and wrapping his arms around Blake's body.

It was a magnificent combination of soft fur and sweaty skin, heat and Avon's wet cock thrusting into his hand (even the kisses were becoming wetter, more sloppy as Avon tried to moan and kiss at the same time). Blake ran his other hand, the one not currently engaged, over and inside the suit, one second running a firm hand over fur, the next pinching Avon's nipples or stroking at chest hair. But it wasn't until he found the nice little fluff of tail and tugged it gently that Avon came in his hand.

While Avon pulled himself together, Blake did his own tidying and licked his hand clean.

"I don't suppose that's what they meant by fertility rites," he said, when he was done.

Avon glared at him and walked back behind the partition.

Blake smiled to himself. When he got back to Liberator, he'd have to have a nice long talk with Zen about pink fur and bunny ears.


End file.
